The Hole
Found this on my computer when I was supposed to be doing some real work. It was written a while back so it's set between seasons 3 and 4 and it seems a shame to let a good bromance go to waste.
Summary: Rick and Daryl, stuck in a hole. Hints of Caryl.
As usual I don't own these lovely people or the world they're in. I've just abducted them to play with for a while. Alas, I'm not making money from my writing and at the rate that I get distracted by fanfic probably never will.
Enjoy and please leave your thoughts at the end.
"Daryl." Rick croaked, his voice rough. He coughed, which hurt, his ribs bruised from the seatbelt which had arrested his fall. His head was pounding and he could feel the sticky blood that was drying on his forehead. He wasn't sure how long they'd been stuck like that but it had gone dark so he guessed it had been a few hours. That was really worrying. If he'd been out for a few hours and Daryl hadn't leapt up and rescued him then they must really be in trouble. He glanced over to the man in the passenger seat and gasped. Daryl hadn't been wearing his seatbelt and had crumpled into the footwell of the truck. He wasn't moving.
Rick struggled to remember what had happened. They'd been driving back from a run, it had been raining heavily, the same as it had been all week and then the road had just disappeared. The road had just given way and they'd taken a nose dive. Despite the seatbelt, Rick had shot forward and bashed his head on the steering wheel and had blacked out. Trust Daryl to have picked a truck that was too old to contain airbags. The hole was big, deep and they'd disappeared into it at an angle that had them, or him at least, hanging in the seatbelt, the nose of the truck embedded in the ground. He looked out of the cracked windscreen at dirt walls and tree roots. It was still raining heavily and the rain was battering down on the car, leaking through the cracks in the windscreen and dripping onto the dashboard.
"Daryl." Rick tried again as he fumbled for the seat belt release. He found it and clicked it open only just getting his feet under him before ending up on the floor. He reached over the shifter and touched Daryl's shoulder gently. When he got no reaction he shook it but the other man did not wake. He reached over to his throat and checked for a pulse. Rick could feel his heart beating in his chest as he struggled to find it but eventually he was there and could feel a weak pulse.
He opened the door to the car and clambered out stiffly, his feet sinking into the thick mud. He was well practiced in being outwardly calm, but no matter how many difficult situations he'd been in he never went into them without his heart pounding. Fights, firearms calls, any serious car accident, if there was potential for a life and death situation Rick had always gone into it with his a thudding heartbeat and a slight shake in his hands. He'd used to envy Shane for his casual manner, something he'd been able to do even in the most adrenaline inducing situations but eventually Rick had realised he didn't want to be like that, didn't want to be blasé and uncaring about death so he'd allowed himself the slightest shake because it kept him compassionate. So with shaking hands he ran round the car to the other side and pulled the door open. Something had dented it on the way down and it was difficult to open but eventually he managed to yank it open. He climbed onto the door. Kneeling beside the unconscious man he ran his hands over his body, checking for injuries. It was dark and he couldn't really see but his hand came away wet and sticky with blood.
"Shit." Rick cursed and slumped back onto his heels. This was bad. In the time before he wouldn't have moved him until the paramedics arrived. He could have back injuries, you were never supposed to move anyone in these kinds of situations. But then, he didn't have a choice. He took a deep breath and searched for a good grip. He slid his hands underneath Daryl's armpits and pulled him up resting the unconscious man's back against his chest. Daryl's head lolled against Rick's shoulder. It hurt Rick's bruised chest but he knew it would be hurting Daryl's pride worse if he woke up, he needed to get this over with.
Daryl's legs were crumpled up under him so Rick wrapped his arms around the man tighter and tried to pull him out of the car.
Daryl yelped as pain shot through his body. Rick stopped his pulling and held the man close to him, he felt Daryl's body tensed against his own and the sheriff's deputy knew his fight or flight response was kicking in.
"Hey, Daryl, shh," Rick soothed, holding him and running a hand through the man's hair refusing to let him fight him off. Eventually Daryl's heart, which had started to race as soon as he'd woken, slowed slightly and his gasping breathing evened out.
"What the hell are you doing Rick?" Daryl growled eventually.
"Trying to get you out of here," Rick said. "Need to get you out of the car so I can take a look at you."
"Happy here." Daryl grumbled. "What the hell happened?"
Rick looked round at their surroundings. "Think we ended up in a sinkhole."
"Shit. Must be the bad weather. There are Limestone caves all under Florida and North Georgia." Daryl said, "Looks like a big one, right?"
Rick frowned at the information, as usual Daryl managed to surprise him with his seemingly random bits of knowledge.
"So… we gonna get you out of this car?"
Daryl sighed long and hard before nodding. "Yeah okay, but I think my leg is broken." He reached forward and clutched his leg knee, pulling it up towards his chest to untangle his legs. He did so with a groan and in the dim light Rick could see his shin was bent at an awkward angle beneath his jeans. As soon as Daryl had unfurled his leg Rick dragged him backwards, pulling him out of the car, off the door and into the dirt beside the vehicle. Daryl couldn't help but let out a low growl as they fell together exhausted into the dirt.
They both lay there a moment, Rick's arms still wrapped round Daryl while they caught their breath and the pain they were both feeling subsided. Eventually Daryl glanced at the face of the man who was far too close to him. "Man, we done? Feelin' a lil' gay here."
Rick came to his senses and released his grip. "Yeah." He crawled out from under Daryl and sat beside him. "Sorry."
Daryl rolled his eyes.
"There should be a flashlight in here somewhere." Rick stood and started rummaging through the truck. Daryl laid back and looked round the hole they were in. It was big. That was all he could say about it right now, it was almost pitch black. The rain continued to pour down on them, it was cold. He pulled himself back a few yards so that he was tucked out of the rain, the hole going back under the part of the road that had not crumbled under the car's weight. Suddenly the hole lit up as Rick found the flashlight. He swung the beam around and proved just how big the hole actually was, and just how deep. The road was way above their heads, this was not going to be easy.
Rick traipsed back over on unsteady legs and sat down hard next to the redneck, flashlight in one hand and a first aid kit in the other.
"You a'right?" Daryl asked, frowning at the man.
Rick ran a hand down his face, "Concussed maybe? But yeah I'm alright."
Daryl snorted, clearly not believing him.
"Need to take a look at your leg."
Daryl nodded.
Rick gave Daryl the flashlight and opened the first aid kit. There was a pair of scissors in the kit. Starting at the hole at Daryl's knee, he slit the pants leg and opened it up. Daryl shone the flashlight over his leg and visibly paled. The skin was split and out of the jagged gory mess stuck a piece of bone. Daryl left the flashlight on his stomach, pointed at the mess and lay back flat on the floor so he didn't have to see it.
"God Daryl!" Rick gulped, looking like he was about to be sick.
"Good lord!" Daryl said through gritted teeth. "Just set it already."
"It's gonna hurt." Rick warned.
Daryl propped himself back up on his elbows and glared at him.
"Okay," Rick conceded, "Stating the obvious."
Daryl lay back down again and closed his eyes. Rick looked at the task in front of him. The redneck looked almost relaxed, at least more relaxed than the sheriff felt. He took a deep breath, and took hold of the injured leg, one hand pinning his thigh in place, the other hand grasping is ankle. As he moved it Daryl let out a guttural yell.
Rick froze staring at the pained man. Daryl was breathing in deep gasps, his chest heaving. "Just… fuckin'… get it… over with." He said between breaths.
Rick nodded and gritted his teeth. Daryl yelled again as Rick went back to the task at hand but this time he managed to ignored the anguished noises and finish the job. It felt awful, he could feel the bits of bone grinding together as he moved them, it set his teeth on edge and he couldn't imagine how it felt. Blood was spilling out from the wound and running down Daryl's leg. He had to look closely to make sure he had the bones aligned and he could see the damage that had been done to the muscle. He felt sick and his head was spinning and he couldn't work out if it was from the concussion or the pain he was having to inflict on his friend. When he was done he picked up the flashlight and inspected his work while Daryl calmed his breathing. It sounded to Rick like he was trying not to whimper. He then grabbed a roll of bandage out of the first aid kit and wrapped it firmly round Daryl's leg. That was the easy bit and he finished it quickly and neatly.
"That should do it." Rick said.
"Thank fuck for that." Daryl growled. "We need something to splint it."
"Yeah," Rick agreed, "Any ideas?"
Daryl frowned, "What do they teach you in cop school?"
"You splint with the other leg and call for an ambulance." If Rick was truthful he possibly would not have even done that. First aid in the police was all about stopping someone from dying, it was recovery positions, CPR and stopping them from bleeding out. The few times he'd had to do first aid in his career had been frantic and almost futile attempts, like the time he'd had to do CPR on a stabbing victim when every compression had sprayed arterial blood in his face, or the hit and run where he'd spent the best part of an hour crouched on the roadside holding a young boy's cracked skull together while Shane stood over him abusing people over his radio until the EMT's finally arrived. Had he come across a broken leg before he would have treated for shock and left the break for the professionals.
"Well you ain't doing that, what if I haveta run somewhere?"
Rick looked down at the stricken man and wondered just how he thought he'd be able to run with or without his legs tied together. He didn't say anything though, he knew better than to assume Daryl was completely defenceless. He stared at the scruffy hunter, he was paler than usual and his eyes had an almost glazed expression. Rick thought again about shock, but they had little with them to keep him warm and he wasn't prepared to raise the leg while it was so fragile.
"I splinted Merle's arm with some arrows out on a hunt once. Stupid asshole took peyote and had an almighty need to leap off a crag." Daryl said. "But then we didn't need them for takin' out walkers."
"Well, I don't see anything else do you?" Rick went back to the car and found the crossbow, setting it down next to its owner and tugging a few arrows from where they were stored on the front of it. "I'll use a few, you keep the rest ready to load. We have knives and guns too don't we?"
"Don't speak too soon." Daryl said snatching his crossbow up and loading a bolt. He aimed up at the edge of the hole. Rick swung the flashlight beam up where he was pointing just in time to see a female walker lying on the ground reaching out over the edge towards them. Daryl fired, the crossbow bolt entering her head. She collapsed, truly dead this time, arm hanging limply down over the edge.
"The hell are we splintin' it with my bolts." Daryl said. "Think we are gonna need them all."
"What then?" Rick said, all we've got in the truck is canned food and bags of rice. The tree roots down here aren't thick enough, we've got no choice.
Daryl raised his crossbow again, drawing Rick's attention back to the road. A second walker was stood up at the edge, groaning. Daryl shot it and it fell forward into the hole with a thud. But there was still more sounds of groaning, more walkers they couldn't yet see.
"I'm sorry brother." Daryl said grimly.
"For what?"
"They musta heard me hollerin'."
Daryl loaded the next bolt as two more walkers appeared at the edge, Daryl shot and the next one fell dead in the hole. But there were more coming behind them. The next walker took a step too far and fell in, but before it could even stagger to its feet it quickly became the least of their worries as the weight of the advancing walkers was too much for the thin crust of road that was remaining. The piece of ground the walkers were stood on started to crumble and then it gave way completely and suddenly six walkers were sliding into the hole with the two survivors.
Rick leapt to his feet, knife at the ready. Daryl scooted further back away from them, unable to stand and loaded the next bolt. Rick stood at the ready by Daryl's side while the walkers disentangled themselves from each other and began to make their way over to them. Daryl was doing all the work, loading the crossbow and firing it into them but Rick didn't want to leave the other man's side. If they got overrun they'd need to be close enough to defend each other.
Loading and firing the crossbow was slow work and Daryl only got three rounds off before the first walker got close. Rick lunged out with his knife and plunged it into the walker's head. It made a squelching sound as it entered the rotten head but they were so used to that by now that he just wrenched it out just in time to plunge it into the next one. In the background they were barely aware that more walkers were falling into the hole.
Daryl sat just behind Rick, firing as many arrows as he could at the herd. A grunt from Rick as a walker grabbed him had Daryl turn and fire an arrow through the male walker that was attacking his friend. He took his eye off the larger heard for just a moment but it was enough for a crawling walker to grab at his bad leg.
Daryl let out a howl of pain and turned on his attacker. His bow wasn't loaded so instead he flipped it in his hands and swung it. The heavy butt of the crossbow smashed into the walkers head, knocking it further into his broken leg. He gasped but managed to put all his strength into the hit, despite the pain. It hadn't been enough to dislodge the walker. Abandoning his crossbow he reached for the knife that hung at his belt. He drew it swiftly but he was not quick enough. Just before the walker was about to plunge its teeth into his leg Rick kicked it in the head. The toe of Rick's battered cowboy boot impacted into the things face, shattering its eye socket and flinging it backwards away from the redneck. It took Rick's knife to finish it off, plunging it through its already oozing eye.
Rick spun back round, bloody knife raised but found he and Daryl were the only things still moving. Daryl lay on the ground, propped up by his elbows, struggling for breath through ragged gasps of agony.
"Are you okay?" Rick asked kneeling beside his friend, "Are you bit?"
Daryl shook his head, staring down at his leg. The bandage was soaked through with blood but there were no bite marks.
They took a moment to take stock of what had happened. Rick counted eleven walkers in the hole, they would've been more than enough for two able bodied people to take on. He dragged a few of them away from Daryl, clearing space before sitting down beside him and using a second bandage over the first on his leg.
Daryl looked really pale and lay there, still propped up on his elbows, watching the other man work.
Rick looked at him with a grim expression on his face. "I have a really nasty idea about splinting your leg," he offered.
"Whatever, just not my arrows, I may still need them."
Rick got up stiffly and saw to the walkers. He started dragging most of them over to a pile on the far side of the hole, where they'd fallen in. He pulled the bolts from their heads as he went placing them back into Daryl's care before getting started on the real task at hand. He picked one of the taller male walkers and got his knife out. Then with a sickening sound he inserted his knife into the walkers kneecap and started to saw.
Daryl looked like he was about to be sick and lay back flat against the mud to avoid seeing what Rick was doing. Rick found it was hard work cutting through all the tendons and ligaments but once he was through that it became easier as the meat was so rotten it was beginning to fall away anyway. Before long Rick had two tibia bones, scraped free of bodily tissue and wiped clean with the walker's shirt. He came back to Daryl with a disturbing sense of satisfaction.
Daryl looked at them, half horrified, half impressed. "That's sick." He commented but said no more as Rick them began to use more bandages to firmly fasten the bones to either side of Daryl's broken one.
Rick shrugged, "After the guts in Atlanta, this doesn't seem so bad."
Daryl nodded with a grin, "Glenn told me about that one. Said you made T-Dog throw up."
"A week into the apocalypse and I was already disembowelling things."
Daryl frowned at him, "A week? You were in that coma a long time. We'd had three months already."
Rick nodded, "Lori said. She also said you'd saved them the night you and Merle joined their group."
Daryl snorted, "Probably about the only reason they let us stay. Shane was an asshole but at least he knew his way around a gun. He was the only one back then though. A small herd had come through, Shane and the others were trying to get through all those abandoned cars on the way out of Atlanta when Merle and I show up. Merle was high as a kite but still shot better'n most. He made such a racket that the walkers all gravitated towards him and between us and Shane we got rid of most o' them. Managed to thin them out enough that we could outrun the rest. My brother an' me were gonna head on outta there but Carol offered us a meal. We hadn't eaten anything cooked for a while so we stayed."
"Well thank you." Rick said sincerely, "I never really got to say how much I appreciate that, and everything else you've done for us."
"Well I've never actually said thank you either."
Rick took that for what it was, it was Daryl feeling awkward about the praise as well as an attempt to give some back. It would be a lot easier for them both if he changed the subject. "I'm sure the others will be worried about us soon. They'll come looking in the morning."
Daryl nodded weakly. Rick could see that the adrenaline had waned from his friend now and he was looking to be struggling. The break had been a bad one and he'd lost a lot of blood. It set Rick to thinking again about shock, he still didn't know how long Daryl had been lying there bleeding while he'd been unconscious but it had been about three or four hours since he'd woken. He wrapped another bandage over the already bloody one and looked at the pile of walkers for warm clothes but they'd all most likely died in the summer because they were dressed for the Georgia heat not the driving icy rain of its winters. He got up again to go over to the truck but the sudden movement made his head spin and he barely staggered away from Daryl before he threw up.
He sank to his knees as he hung his head, emptying what little there was in his stomach. He stayed there until there was nothing left and the heaving stopped. He became aware of his surroundings again and realised he could feel Daryl's gaze burning into his back. He got to his feet and turned to face the other man, embarrassed to have been seen losing his lunch.
"Think concussion is right." Daryl said simply, a concerned expression on his face.
Rick nodded, "Had it before. I'll be okay." He finally got back to the truck and rummaged around in the back of it until he found what he was looking for. It was an old tatty blanket that had been left in there for emergencies. He picked it up and brought it over to Daryl. It was damp but still better than nothing. He unfolded it and laid it down over Daryl, even kneeling beside him and tucking kit around him until the surly hunter grumbled and shoved him away. Satisfied that it was the best he could do Rick sat down beside him.
"What about you?" Daryl said giving him a long look.
"I'm fine." Rick said. Although he could feel now that he had nothing to do that he really was feeling awful. His head was pounding and his stomach was still lurching. It was cold too, they were both soaked and although they were now protected from the wind and rain it didn't help with the bitter chill that had set in.
Daryl just stared at him, watching the cop shiver miserably until he flipped the corner of his blanket over, an invitation to get under it.
"Come on Rick. Don't make no sense for you to be freezing to death. We should be sharing body heat anyway."
Rick had known that, he just thought that had he gotten any closer to Daryl the redneck may have throttled him. Hesitantly he came over and lay down beside Daryl having to get very close, almost touching before the blanket would fit over the both of them. They lay there together, very stiffly, staring straight up at the dark sky.
"You know really we should have gotten out of these wet clothes." Rick mentioned.
Daryl turned his head and frowned at him. "Don't push your luck!"
The anger mixed with fear in Daryl's face was so over the top it made Rick laugh. Thankfully that broke the stern expression and Daryl allowed himself a smirk.
"Besides," Rick continued, "What would Carol think when our rescue party arrives."
Daryl shook his head at the mention of the woman's name. "She's such a flirt these days she'd probably just ask to join in."
Rick looked at him quizzically. "You do realise she only flirts with you don't you?"
Daryl rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Are you really the only one not to see it?"
"She's friendly with everyone. And she's got some sort of idea in her head that she owes me sumthin' after I was lookin' for Sophia all that time. I told her she don't owe me nuthin' but she still keeps on."
Rick looked at the man, "Is that really what you think?" But the man next to him was completely sincere. It was so obvious to everyone else how could he not see it? It had taken Rick a while to understand the scruffy man but eventually he'd seen the mask of obnoxious redneck had slip enough that he'd recognised the hurt human underneath. Rick had never spoken to Daryl about his past but he'd arrested enough people who reminded him of the hunter that he could make an educated guess. Rick figured that as with a lot of aggressive people he'd met, he was that way to cover huge cracks in their self-esteem. It made Rick's heart break that after all this time Daryl still didn't believe he was worthy of being loved. There'd be no telling him though so he just let the conversation drop.
The sky was starting to lighten, although the rain had yet to stop. Rick looked over at Daryl again and saw that his eyes had drifted shut. It was difficult in the dim light to see his shallow breathing. Worried, he reached up to his neck and felt for a pulse. The touch on his neck had Daryl's eyes fluttering open.
"Not going anywhere." Daryl muttered, closing his eyes again.
"I know, just making myself feel better." Rick said gently.
"Wake me in an hour or so, take a watch."
"Okay." Rick said to avoid an argument, having already decided he would let Daryl sleep as long as he could. He hoped that the rest of the group were waking up at the prison soon and setting out on a rescue mission. They were approximately four hours drive from the prison but they'd had to make a detour to avoid a pile up on the main highway. Rick had had a look at the map to find an alternative route and had seen there had been multiple alternatives. Rick had brought the only map with them so the others would be driving back to the crossroads and would have to guess at which way they'd gone. With that realisation, Rick guessed that they could spend all day driving round before they found them. By then Daryl's leg would be running a serious risk of infection, if it wasn't already.
"I've been thinking." Rick said quietly.
Daryl nodded, eyes still closed. "So have I."
"They could get lost at the crossroads, could be hours before they find the right path."
"You should go." Daryl said. "I'll slow you down, but if you can get back to the crossroads they can find you there, bring them back to come and get me."
"I don't want to leave you here like this. It's not safe."
Daryl growled, "I can take care of myself, don't be a pussy."
Rick nodded and stood up. "It's a long walk, I'd better get moving or I'll miss them." He walked over to the truck, still in the ground at an awkward angle, its nose in the mud while its rear fender was still caught on the lip of the hole. It would not be the easiest thing to climb up but it still afforded them a way out.
He placed a foot on the wheel and braced himself, standing up on it he could feel the damn thing shift in the mud but it held. From there he realised he would not be going for the roof, it would be too slippery. Instead he got back down and wound all the car windows down so that he could use the voids as footholds, this worked and soon he was gripping onto the rear of the flatbed and hauling himself up. It was hard work and his numb fingers were struggling to grip in the wet. He was almost up when he noticed the tarmac shifting. What happened next felt like it happened in slow motion. He saw the tarmac lip of the sinkhole crumple under the extra weight and then fall away. Now unsupported, the truck began to tip, it slipped in the mud as it crashed down, the wheels that had previously been hung in mid-air impacted into the mud of the sinkhole and Rick was flung from the flatbed. He landed on his back in the mud, the sticky substance enveloping him. He lay there a moment, his head ringing and back aching, thinking he may vomit again. He was exhausted and wanted to just give up and lay there but a concerned voice was shouting at him through the rain.
"Rick! You a'right?"
"Yeah." He replied queasily, struggling to his feet. He staggered back over to the other man and sat down beside him.
Daryl looked at him and then couldn't help but laugh. "Oh shit! It's the swamp monster."
Rick realised he must now be covered head to toe in mud. He was too tired to find it funny though.
"I don't know how to get out of here now." Rick said miserably.
"Well you gotta try." Daryl snapped, his mood changing suddenly.
Rick got back up and went back to the truck, picking the place where the rim of the sinkhole looked most stable he decided he would drive the truck over and then clamber on its roof. He got in the vehicle and turned the key. The vehicle spluttered but didn't start, he tried again and again but no matter what he did the engine would not turn over. He got out of the truck, the handbrake hadn't been on to begin with, and tried pushing it. All that happened was his boots slipped in the mud and he went crashing to his knees. No matter how much he tried, the truck wouldn't budge. He clambered up onto the roof of the truck and looked at the nearest edge. It was far, too far really, but he tried anyway, launching himself from the roof towards the edge of the sinkhole, he reached out for it and felt his already bruised chest collide with the edge but as before the tarmac crumbled and he ended up in a heap in the mud. All he'd resulted in doing was damaging his already damaged ribs and making the gap between truck and ledge even wider.
He sat up where he fell and surveyed the hole, the only other thing he had was the bags of rice and the tinned food and the walkers. He set about making a pile of them, hoping to use them as steps to get out but there was not enough of them and every time he stepped on them they squelched away from him and he ended up back where he started. This whole process had taken hours and now it was well and truly daylight. He was looking round for the next thing to try when a faint voice called to him.
"Rick, you've made your point."
Rick came back over and looked at his friend. The other man looked at deaths door, his skin was pallid and the blood on his leg had soaked though the bandage and was now beginning to show through the blanket. He pulled the last bandage out of the meagre first aid kit and wrapped it round the two already in place.
"You know Hershel may want to give you a transfusion when you get back, any idea what your blood type is?"
"Didn't exactly have an HMO." Daryl replied. His voice was thin and wavering. His eyes kept drifting closed. Rick reached out and touched the other man's forehead, he was freezing cold to the touch. There was nothing else for it, Rick got back down beside the other man and crawled under the blanket. He manoeuvred the hunter until his back was resting up against Rick's chest and he wrapped his arms around him. It was a testament to just how out of it the redneck was that he didn't protest.
"Daryl." Rick said firmly, "Daryl you have to stay with me."
Daryl mumbled something but it was incomprehensible.
"Come on, Dixons never say die right?"
"Merle did." Daryl mumbled. "Thought nothin' could kill Merle but Merle."
Rick cursed inwardly, it had been the wrong thing to bring up. He would never be able to understand the relationship he'd had with his brother, the love they had between them when there was also so much hate was something he couldn't even begin to fathom. But love him the younger Dixon had, and they were all fairly sure that he'd made no attempt at working through his feelings over his brother's death.
But it had garnered more of a reaction so he went with it. "Tell me about Merle. Tell me about this peyote hunting trip."
"E'er done peyote? 'Cause not, yous a cop…" Daryl mumbled. "I never liked it, 'cause it only use'ta give me bad trips. But Merle, he liked anythin' that weren't real life." The story was punctuated with long pauses while Daryl tried to find the energy to tell it. He was clearly exhausted and the cold and the blood loss was having a serious impact. But he kept going, knowing the importance of staying awake. "It 'ws when Merle had just got outta prison again, fer the fourth time. He'd been in drug rehab in prison but there's always drugs in prison so he'd usually come out worse, n' ever. He knocks on ma door in the middle of the night, firs' day out an' already drunk 'n high. Nex' day I decide t' call in sick t' work an' take him out huntin'. I ain't seen him fer four years an' it was the only thing we ever did t'gether that weren't involvin' drink. He promised this would be the last time, he'd get sober an' a job an' not go t' prison again. But few h'rs later an' he's munchin' on 'shrooms he found in the woods. Wants me t' take some, calls me a pussy 'cause I don't like 'em. Next thing, he's being chased by some big ol' bear that ain't there. Dives right offa cliff."
"You must've been tempted to leave him there." Rick said, urging the story along when Daryl had seemed to run out of steam.
"Nah man, he's my brother. Hauled his ass outta there, patch'd him up an' dragged him home. Should'a reminded him when he w's callin' me a pussy lookin' fer Sophia though."
Rick didn't know how to react to that last statement. Daryl had to be getting his events mixed up, he guessed what he meant, the time that Daryl had managed to fall and impale himself on an arrow, but Merle had been long gone by then. To question it now would only confuse the man further so he let it slide.
"Your turn." Daryl murmured, "You a brother?"
"I had Shane."
"Shane's an asshole."
Rick laughed half-heartedly, "So was Merle."
Daryl nodded and coughed, it was a thick wet cough, the kind that foretold illness. It took all the energy out of him and he was left gasping for air to fill his wet lungs.
They lay there while Daryl's coughing subsided. It seemed to herald even worse problems to come. Rick was no longer sure that Daryl remembered where he was, he could barely string two words together now and at some point Rick had felt a change in the way he held himself, as though now he was starting to consider defeat. Rick talked for a while, but even he was finding it hard, his head was pounding and the cold had driven his body completely numb. He knew it was still raining because he could see it, but he could no longer feel the heavy drops as they pelted him and his dying friend.
Daryl was dying, there were no two ways about it. The sheriff's deputy knew what it felt like to hold someone while their life faded from them, he'd done it with that boy on the roadside, and he was doing it now. The hunter had lost so much blood that for a long time now Rick was convinced the only thing keeping him on this earth was his stubbornness. But that had faded now too, and with it, Rick was losing his.
Rick had no idea how long they lay there before a familiar voice broke through the fog of his thoughts.
"Guys! They're over here!"
"Glenn." He mumbled, but it wasn't enough to make himself heard. He opened his eyes blearily and looked up. It had stopped raining at last, he had no idea when that had happened. He gazed up out of the hole and saw the faces of Glenn, Maggie and Carol looking down at them. He was still clinging on to Daryl in his soaked and shivering arms, but Daryl was lifeless and cold and didn't seem to care.
"Careful." He croaked out, his voice raw with cold. "The edge."
"We are coming to get you." Glenn promised and they stepped back and out of view.
With new found strength drawn from their rescue, Rick shook Daryl. "Daryl, come on brother, wake up." The man did not stir though. Rick felt for a pulse at his neck but his fingers were so numb from cold that he felt nothing.
There was noise up above again and Rick looked up to see Maggie, a rope around her body being lowered slowly down on a rope. She made it to the floor, unlooped the rope and shouted up "I'm down!"
"Maggie!" Rick whispered, overwhelmed for a moment with joy at being rescued. She crouched down beside the two men, and inspected the cut on Rick's forehead.
"Are you hurt?"
"Concussion and some bruises but Daryl's leg is broken badly, he's lost a lot of blood."
"How long have you both been down here?"
"What time is it now?"
"Almost sunset."
"Then about 24 hours. You're both hypothermic."
Maggie had taken off the blanket while she talked and was visually checking over both their bodies. When it appeared that Rick had told her everything she nodded. "We are going to get you up first. Can you stand?"
Rick nodded and manoeuvred his way out from Daryl's body. Maggie offered him the loop of rope which he looped over his head and arms so that it sat underneath his armpits.
"Okay we are ready." Maggie shouted.
There was a pause and then the rope pulled taut. It slowly began to creak it took Rick's weight, dragging against the lip of the sinkhole. Rick could hear an engine and guessed at how they had the strength to haul him up. Rick placed his feet against the earthen wall of the hole and began to talk his walk up at the speed the rope pulled him. He was almost at the top when a hand reached out. He reached up and Glenn grasped him at the wrist. Rick tried to close his numb fingers around the other man's wrist as best he could and suddenly he was being hauled up over the edge. Glenn grabbed the back of his jacket with his other hand and dragged him over. The uncomfortable pull of the rope subsided and Rick lay there a moment in relief. He looked up to see Glenn on his knees beside him, the rope connected to the underneath of a car with Carol at the wheel.
"Thank you." Rick whispered, exhausted by the simple effort.
"Don't mention it. But we are gonna need your help with Daryl."
Rick nodded, he unlooped the rope from himself with stiff aching limbs and dangled it over the edge. Carol drove forward again so the rope lowered down all the way to the bottom again.
Rick watched as Maggie struggled to thread Daryl's limp form through the loop. She tried tightening the loop across his chest, but even then as Carol reversed the truck he began to slip out of it. She shouted for them to stop in a panic, not wanting to let the already injured man fall. There wasn't enough rope to create a proper harness. Eventually she sat with Daryl's limp form leaning back against her chest and tied the rope around them both. She called for them to pull up and then held Daryl for dear life as they both began to rise up. Over the loop of rope she clamped her hands onto Daryl's belt, keeping him tucked into her body as they were pulled up, she was unable to get her legs to the wall so they spun around as they ascended.
Glenn and Rick waited on top, shouting encouragement to the two until eventually they were both able to reach out and grab his jacket and pull. It took a monumental effort to haul the two people over the edge, even with the help of the truck and once done, Rick, Glenn and Maggie were left gasping on their knees. Rick still had a hand fisted into the front of Daryl's jacket and he found even as Carol leapt from the truck with a gasp and pulled the man into her lap, he was unable to let go.
Carol pulled the unconscious man close to her and brushed the wet hair back from where it clung to his forehead. She checked his pulse and nodded grimly. "He's alive." She said, as if to herself, but it made Rick's heart leap with joy. He hadn't been sure.
"We need to get you both into the warm." She said, standing up and helping Rick to his feet. "Take the front passenger seat, we've got him." She said when Rick made to help Daryl up. Rick did as he was told finding himself ever so weary as he watched Carol and Glenn haul Daryl up and between them carry him to the back of the car where they lay him down across the backseats, his head cradled in Carol's lap. Maggie ran round disconnecting the rope from the car, coiled it and slung it in the trunk. She then took her place in the backseat, slipping under Daryl's legs while Glenn started the engine. He shot the vehicle back, reversing at great speed before doing a quick spin and set off on the journey home as fast as the rain drenched streets would allow.
Rick settled his battered body into the seat and turned the heat onto its warmest settling. As the heat began to permeate the car he felt the painful tingling of numb fingers and toes thawing. He turned around to look into the back and saw Carol carding her fingers through too long locks of soaked and muddy hair. Daryl shivered and then started coughing harshly. Carol switched to rubbing his back while he struggled clear his throat. Eventually the coughing subsided and he lay there, giving Rick a look that said he was uncomfortable with the attention he was getting but far too miserable and tired to do anything about it.
"…you lookin' at?" Daryl grumbled at the man, which started another fit of coughing.
Rick smiled, "Nothin'. Just glad to have you back."
"Ain't goin' nowhere." Daryl replied weakly.
Rick nodded at this last statement and leaned back into his seat. The redneck would be a nightmare for the next few weeks while he healed up, but Rick wouldn't change it for the world. Once again, against all odds, it looked like they were going to be okay.